Black Magic and White Rum
by Mother of Dragonborns
Summary: Years have passed since the Pharaoh departed from this life. The world once again, forgot about the Nameless Pharaoh until the Millennium Items were unearthed once more. Caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, both Seto Kaiba and a complete stranger become unhinged and obsessed as they come under the influence of a power neither can control. Kaiba/OC


I have the same story over on A03. I am just writing under a different pen name since I am too lazy to make a new account. The original version of this is a reader-insert and while I have writer's block, I figured why not try turning this bad boy into a 3rd person POV story?

On A03, I could get away with a certain level of Mary Sueness, so I am looking forward to making the reader into the basic problematic hot mess I always knew she was.

 **Warnings:** fanfic is intended for mature audiences over the age of 17 as it contains material that would be inappropriate for minors such as strong language, graphic depictions of violence, adult situations, substance abuse, physical descriptions of war and PTSD, and extremely unhealthy relationships.

* * *

September 13, 2015 –Chicago, Illinois

* * *

Kylie navigated her car into a parking spot, turned off the ignition, and practically fell against the steering wheel. She would not admit that she was hungover she just…needed a minute. Her sunglasses slid down her nose and she made the mistake of opening an eye. At that very moment, the sun had chosen to come out from behind a cloud and the beam made it feel like her brain was bleeding.

In spite of the fact that her body felt like it was trying to punish her while her liver metabolized the sheer amount of alcohol from the night before, Kylie would never admit she was hungover. It was just dehydration, she reasoned with herself.

Kylie had turned twenty-six years old less than three weeks ago and it felt like her body was all like, 'Oh yeah, I'm now close to my late 20's, better start feeling old.'

Pushing the sunglasses up to their proper spot, Kylie straightened up. Without thinking, she reached out for her cup holder to grab some change. Counting it out, Kylie paused, muttered "Duh," and dropped the change back into the cup holder. It was Sunday, which meant free parking.

Reluctantly, Kylie practically crawled out of her car to make her way to Starbucks. She took a moment to take a deep breath and hope that it would clear her head a little.

Nope.

Kylie was of the mind that very few locations (in America anyway) could beat a summer living on the Great Lakes. While the late morning air was still warm and summerlike, Memorial Day weekend had come and gone. Several trees that lined North Avenue were already beginning to change color.

To further prove that the last remnants of summer were fading, Kylie was quick to note of the foreboding grey clouds that were rolling in from Lake Michigan in the east. More than likely it was going to bring in a cold front and autumn would officially begin for Chicago. The arrival of autumn meant one thing: Winter was coming. And with it, brings dry skin, higher electric bills, and snow. Lots of snow.

Kylie tried not to think of that. Instead, she decided to focus her brain power on just getting through the doors to Starbucks. Two baristas were engaged in a conversation and barely looked up at Kylie when she staggered to the cash register.

One barista paused her conversation to take an order. She took one look at Kylie before giving her a sympathetic smile. "You poor thing."

"I know," Kylie groaned. "Not to be basic or anything, but could I get a Venti Pumpkin Spiced Latte? With an extra shot of espresso."

"Would you like some water too?" the barista asked.

"That would be absolutely fantastic," Kylie replied. After paying, she decided to pass the time by looking over the selection of energy drinks, yogurt parfaits, and various juices. Intrigued by a juice with the label Defense Up, she flipped it over to read the nutritional information.

It would help the almost-hangover, she thought. But was it worth the price? A quick check at the menu made her immediately put the juice back in its proper spot. No. No it was not worth the price.

Most of her friends were getting married, starting families, or buying houses. Yet, here she was, twenty-six years old, almost hungover, and worrying about the price of juice. Then again, she said as a way to reassure herself, not many of her friends could boast being a PhD candidate at the University of Chicago.

Still, being broke was such a bummer. A nagging thought that sounded suspiciously like her grandmother lectured her on being more careful with money and maybe if she did not party away all the money she received from her GI Bill during undergrad, her situation would be a little different.

However, that thought was upsetting. Never one to upset herself, Kylie pulled out her phone to shoot Tiffany a quick text. In your drunken stupor, she and Tiffany made plans to meet up at the Field Museum to see the Nameless Pharaoh Unearthed exhibit. It was the only reason she had gotten out of bed, showered, and dressed before noon.

Initially, Kylie assumed Tiffany would forget about their plans. However, a text message woke her up at bright and early 9am. The text had been from Tiffany, inquiring whether or not the plans were still on. _Hell yes they are,_ she had replied back.

 _At Starbucks getting my PSL. ETA ~20 mins,_ she typed. Her order was called before she hit the Send button. Before grabbing her drink, Kylie took several long gulps from water and the sympathetic barista was already filling another cup for her.

Kylie thanked the barista like she was her new lord and savior. Because, yeah. At this moment, she kind of was.

"Feel better!" Kylie's lord and savior called when she was heading for the door.

Kylie tossed the first water into the garbage and since she finished it like a goddamn champion, she rewarded herself with finally being able to drink her latte. She idly noted that while she was inside for a grand total of five minutes, the cloud coverage had increased significantly. Which was good news for her and her aching head.

While Kylie was no expert on meteorology, but she could not help but notice those had been some fast-moving clouds. Without a doubt, it was going to storm soon and she only hoped that it would hold off until she was inside the Field Museum. There was no way in hell she was about to pay for parking, which meant having to walk a distance to get to the museum.

Honestly, Kylie knew she should have called an Uber or hopped on the L. However, Kylie was once again feeling cheap. Plus, it would take nearly an hour to take the Blue Line before hopping on a bus.

Kylie got back in her car and would have driven off with both her water and latte on the roof of the car had she not looked down where her drinks should have been.

* * *

By the time she ascended the front steps of the Field Museum, the wind had started to pick up. Or maybe it was just the fact she was so close to the lake. Kylie didn't know, she was not a meteorologist. She was, however, getting really impatient.

"Don't rain," she mouthed to the ever-darkening sky. Once again, she hit the dial button on her phone and held it to her ear. The Field Museum was like a vortex that made her phone lose signal the moment she went inside. So it was standing outside and possibly getting drenched for Kylie.

Within the past half hour, thick enough to cause the street lights to come on. Combined with the wind, the entire city of Chicago was beginning to remind Kylie of Silent Hill. She just wanted to get inside before it started down pouring.

At least she had the foresight to grab the hoodie that had been sitting in the backseat of her car all summer. Kylie was a lazy college student that never quite grew up; she had been lazy and kept forgetting to bring it inside.

Once again, she listened to Tiffany's annoying-as-shit voicemail message and waited for the prompt before she began talking. "Hi, it's me. I decided to leave a voicemail this time because I'm standing outside, wondering where you are. My phone doesn't get reception, so hopefully you're inside and can't head your pho—"

A beep alerted Kylie to the fact she was receiving an incoming call. From Tiffany! "About fucking time," she muttered before sliding her finger over to the Answer icon.

"Where are you?" you said in greeting.

"Kylie…" Tiffany began apologetically. Kylie had a feeling she was not going to like what she was about to hear…

"So um…I feel back asleep."

Kylie felt her grip tighten around the phone; she freaking _knew_ it! Mentally, she was screaming yet remained silent, waiting for Tiffany to continue.

She didn't.

"Okay. Sooo…did you still want to go see the exhibit today?" Kylie could not mask the bite to her tone because Tiffany had woken her up about the plans and after Kylie got all the way to the destination, Tiffany decided to bail.

"I'm really sorry! It's just looking like it's about to storm. I don't want to go out in that. Again, I'm super sorry. I really drank too much last night to really do this today."

Kylie breathed and went over the mental exercises before losing her temper. "Okay," was all she could manage to choke out without insulting someone she called a friend.

"I really miss seeing you!" Tiffany insisted. "You're always so busy with school. So just let me know when you're free and I'll buy you dinner to make up for it."

"Okay," Kylie repeated. "I'm really angry, so I am hanging up right now."

She immediately hit the End Call button, silenced her phone and without really thinking about it, stuffed the device into her back pocket instead of her purse. Kylie reflected on the exchange and decided that it had went over relatively well. After all, she resisted the urge to call Tiffany a stupid bitch. She also voiced her feelings in a non-aggressive manner and never raised her voice.

Progress, Kylie decided, leaning against the railing of the giant steps leading up to the museum and sighed heavily. She was at least making progress.

Running a hand through her hair, Kylie watched as cars and taxis moved along the street. She debated whether or not to just grab a taxi and have it take her to her car. If she went home, she could go back to bed and maybe wake up in a better mood.

She began to absently kick at one of the steps when a snippet of conversation caught her attention. Out of curiosity, she titled her head to her left. Kylie had no idea what was being said, but tones were kind of universal and the guy sounded as pissed off as she was.

The guy in question was an Asian dude and probably mid-thirties, but Kylie was horrible at telling age. He was also nicely dressed and Kylie noted, was rather tall. This was America and towering above her own petite frame never merited a second thought, there was something more to this guy. He was more than tall, his presence was commanding. There was no other way to describe it.

Piercing blue eyes were fixed on her and when they met Kylie's, she felt an immediate surge of panic. Before her fight-or-flight response activated, she reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong. Kylie was not a super model, but her fair skin, long silky brown hair (that was maintained very well thankyouverymuch, petite build and the perfect pair of doe-like brown eyes, Kylie knew she was at least a seven.

She was not a stranger to using her looks to get out of trouble and gave the guy one of her charming smiles (without showing teeth because she fucked up as a teenager and never got braces like she should have) before turning on her heel and going inside the museum. After all, she made the effort to get here. Which meant, she might as well see the exhibit.


End file.
